


Summons

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Wizard Dean Winchester, demon Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: When Dean set out to call a familiar to him, he couldn't foresee that he would instead summon a demon. AU, wizard!Dean, Drowley.
Relationships: Crowley/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Summons

Dean rubbed his face with his hands and squeezed his eyes firmly shut, but it was no use; when he opened them again, the – the demon he had accidentally summoned was still there.

And rather annoyed, it seemed. “And? Are you going to let me out now or…”

Despite his failure at doing something so simple as call a familiar to his side, Dean couldn’t help but stare. “Leave you out of a devil’s trap? Are you _insane_?”

It was pure luck that he had at the last minute decided to put one up in the first place, just in case –

Just in _this_ case, really.

He sighed. And now he had to check how to banish demons properly, and if he failed, and it was rather likely, he would have to ask Bobby for help or worse, Sam, and then his brother would look at him again in that way he had of letting him know that he wasn’t, and never would be, up to his standards when it came to magic…

“Well, you obviously want something, and I can’t use my powers as long as I am stuck in here, so…”

“I never wanted to summon you” Dean snapped.

“Wow. Stellar work, darling. You clearly have managed not to summon a demon.”

“Shut up I have to concentrate” he muttered, leafing through the grimoire in front of him. There had to be a way, and please, let it be a simple, rather quick way…

“If you’re trying to send me straight to Hell, I want you to know I have absolutely no intention of going back. All those flames… and don’t get me started on Lucifer.”

“You’re a demon. You’re supposed to like this kind of stuff” he said distractedly.

“Well, but I don’t” he – whined? “Come on” he then smoothly went back to bargaining. “I am a demon; making deals is what we do. Are you sure I can’t interest you in –“

“Yes, very sure, thank you” he said firmly. He knew the stories; and hell, even if he hadn’t, he knew better than to sell his soul. He didn’t want to end up as a hell hound’s chew toy, thank you very much.

“Really? Because what I see here are all the paraphernalia needed to call a familiar, and instead, I am here. I’d say whoever this wizard is, he needs some serious help.”

“I don’t”.

“Oh, my mistake. I’ll just chill here then, while you try and fail to banish me, shall I?”

The trouble was – Dean was reading the runes – oh God, there was every possibility of failure.

“And just so you know – doesn’t matter how long you’re planning on keeping me here – rest assured, I will get out. And when I do, I’ll rip out your spine through your –“

“I’m no good at this, alright?” he said tiredly, done with it all – Sam’s contemptuous glances, the other witches and wizards’ mirth whenever his name was mentioned, his inability to conjure up something as simple as a fire ball when the need arose. “I – my family’s supposed to be an old magical one, and I’m – I’m _nothing_. I can barely perform spells. I thought a familiar would help me; you showed up. Might as well let you out and allow you to put my out of my misery.”

“Something like the family disappointment, aren’t you.”

“Exactly”. He snapped the book shut. “So let me just –“ He really might as well get it over with. The dumb Winchester gets mauled by a demon; why not? No one would be surprised, and Sammy would be free of him…

“Oh, for God’s sake. Look, here’s the deal. You let me out, I don’t have to go back to Hell, and I help you out with your little” his eyes trailed down Dean’s body. “Problem.”

Against all expectation he felt a thrill at the demon’s words. _Get a grip. What is wrong with you?_ “Why would you help me?”

“Well, I wanted out of Hell for a while, and this is my best chance. Plus it seems to me I could cause a great deal of chaos, and you know how we demons are – nothing like a good amount of chaos to tempt more people into sim.”

Not that he’d need much to do so, Dean thought, the demon was a pretty good-looking guy… _Stop it. Whatever you’re doing, stop it._ “And I’m just supposed to believe it.”

“You can take the deal or your chances” he shrugged. “I’m waiting.”

And Dean quickly thought it through. “Alright. But you are not to harm me, or anyone else, while we have our deal.” He knew better than to charge him never to harm anyone again; he didn’t have nearly enough power for any such demands; but he could try his best to keep him under control for a little while and if he actually helped his magic, even better.

The demon sighed. “Fine. Come here.”

“What for?”

“It’s a deal, darling. We need to seal it.”

Oh. A kiss. Dean swallowed, then thought about it. There was no harm in a kiss, was there? And no one needed to know…

And so they did kiss, and it was far from unpleasant. Sadly.

“So” the demon said, letting go of him, “Are you going to let me out?”

Dean did so. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“Call me Crowley.”

Alright then. “I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”

* * *

Dean couldn’t help but feel that he was being judged as Crowley studied his small house. “What’s all these rubbish for?”

“What do you mean?”

He pilled a book of spells – one of Sam’s particular favourites – from a shelf. “Come on. All that abracadabra and whatnot. Nothing about real power.”

“Yeah, well, your Highness, those of us who aren’t blessed with any need to make do with what we can find.”

That reminded him. He quickly went to his potions cabinet – the one place in his house where he felt completely at ease – and chose a few substances. One couldn’t be too careful…

“In case you’re trying to brew up some form of protection, you should know that I am a red-eyed demon, so your little harmless potions are not going to –“

“There, that should do it” Dean held out a glass towards him. “Bottoms up.”

“Again, demon. Poison’s not going to work either.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not trying to do anything to you, Peaches, apart from making sure no one will notice you’re demon for the time being. We can pass you off as another wizard that way, someone who has asked to be accorded the right of hospitality.”

“You just… made this?” Crowley was staring at him with a quizzical impression on his face.

“It wasn’t hard. It’s just cooking, when you come down to it” he shrugged. “After all, what do we want the potion to do? A little bit of Veiling, a little bit of Distortion – not too much, mind, or other witches and wizards would be able to tell – and a lot of Making you Unnoticeable, or at least uninteresting enough.”

“So you spontaneously came up with that.”

“I often do that. When you’re shit at magic, you have to improvise.”

Crowley was still staring at him, but thankfully took the potion and drank it, frowning as he did so. “This should tase much worse than it does.”

“All my potions taste good. Makes it easier for people to swallow, you know.”

“You are a strange wizard, aren’t you” he said, handing him back the glass.

Whatever that meant.

* * *

They hadn’t been at it long – as a matter of fact, Dean was currently busy to keeping Crowley from throwing out half of his things the demon claimed were “stupid” “useless” or, apparently his personal favourite insult, “boring” – when a knock on the door rang out.

Damn it. He’d forgotten Bobby had told him he’d drop by. “Let me handle this” he told Crowley, who just rolled his eyes.

“At least we can see if your potion works or not.”

“Yeah, yeah” he muttered as he opened the door. “Hey Bobby – got a guest.”

“I can see that” he said; Crowley had somehow managed (well, his demon powers, Dean supposed) to get a glass with some undoubtedly alcoholic and, judging by his comments, probably expensive beverage. “Made himself comfortable, has he?”

“I’ve accorded him hospitality. Crowley just needs a place to stay for a bit.”

“Ran into a few demons” he drawled without any sign of betraying himself. “Got into a bit of trouble.”

Dean did his best to convey what he felt through his glares as Bobby was distracted by Crowley. “Demons? What you been up to, boy?”

“Don’t worry I wasn’t doing anything that could not be approved by the Council:”

“If you say so” Bobby muttered and threw Dean a glance that clearly stated he should be careful.

“Well, thanks” Dean said as soon as he’d managed to make the older wizard leave, “Thanks for that. Now Bobby believes I am harboring a necromancer or something.”

“Come on, darling, live a little. There’s no harm in people thinking you’re more dangerous than you actually are.”

“Yes, for you maybe –“

“Good God, are those spirit candles? Who still believes in those –“

Dean sighed and wondered why he’d thought this was a good idea again.

* * *

Crowley was sitting at his kitchen table when Dean put a burger in front of him. “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Eat it”.

“Why are you feeding me? I don’t need sustenance.”

“I am aware of that.”

In truth, Dean hadn’t thought about it at all – he had a guest, so when he had set out to cook, he’d automatically made enough for two.

Crowley looked at the burger with disgust – Dean suspected that such fare was not sophisticated enough for him – that expression, however, was quickly done away with when he took a bite.

He stared at the burger some more, than admitted obviously reluctantly, “It’s good.”

“One of the two things I know how to do: brew positions and make burgers” Dean said lightly, sitting down with his own serving.

“If you say so” Crowley answered, but Dean had the strange feeling there was more to it than that.

* * *

Dean hadn’t known what to expect from having a demon roommate, but being literally thrown out of bed at seven am in the morning was not what he would have chosen for himself. “Hey!”

“Rise and shine, darling. We got to make a wizard out of you so I can go my merry way.”

He glared up at him from the floor. “And how do you propose to do that? Dark magic?”

“As I told your friend yesterday, I have no intention of arousing the Council’s curiosity. No; all you need is a bit of practice.”

Right. As if that had ever worked before.

* * *

“This is going nowhere.”

He stared at Crowley, feeling rather put out. “I _told_ you that I can’t –“

“It’s just elevating that little book of the table! It’s hardly rocket science.”

“That might actually be easier” he muttered. It certainly felt like he would have had a better chance then.

“Alright” Crowley decided, lifting the book with his demon powers.

“No reason to show –“

“Cooking.”

Dean blinked. “What?”

“Cooking. What is it about? The right ingredients. So what ingredients do we need here? Just the book and your magic.”

What about the spell, and the rituals…”

“I told you, most of those grimoires are utterly useless. And spells… most words aren’t even necessary.”

“Then why use them at all?”

He shrugged. “Tradition? To make it look dramatic? I have no idea. But that’s all you need. The book, and your powers. Ands you do have powers, otherwise the potion would never work as well as it does.”

True – Bobby wasn’t suspecting that Crowley was a demon in the least.

“Alright. So what do you suggest I should do?”

“Don’t try to force it. You got all the ingredients; let them cook.”

“I think we’re stretching the metaphor a bit.”

Crowley was still looking at him as if he expected him to just – well, magically move the book.

Which of course he was trying to do.

 _Ugh_. Problem was, he looked rather delectable with that expression…

Why did he have to be good-looking? Surely, that broke some kind of law. Weren’t demons supposed to be ugly?

“Are you possessing someone?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“You said if I concentrate too much, it’ll spoil everything, and I’ curious.”

“This used to be an unsuccessful literary agent from New York, but don’t worry, it’s just me in here.”

Dean couldn’t for the life of him say why he believed him but he did.

He snapped his fingers, still dwelling on Crowley apparently deciding against truly possessing someone and rather choosing an empty meat suit and –

“There we have it.”

He blinked. The book was no hovering several inches over the table.

“It’s a beginning” Crowley announced and somehow, it really felt like one.

* * *

Dean should probably have considered a few things before he allowed a demon to move in with him.

For one, that it was his turn to give their weekly family dinner, and that Crowley could not be prevailed on to leave for a few hours; on the contrary, claiming that eh shouldn’t leave him alone because it wasn’t part of the deal – something Dean was sure could have been arranged – he settled down at the kitchen table while Dean was cooking, looking for all the world like someone who had no intention of leaving ever again.

“Come on” Dean suddenly said, “You can peel the potatoes.”

“What?”

“You are in my kitchen, you help out. My house, my rules.”

Crowley grumbled at that but, to his surprise, actually moved to help.

* * *

Dean caught Eileen’s eyes, silently beseeching her to do something.

It had quickly transpired that Sam and Crowley were not going to be the best of friends, to put it mildly. Whenever Sam opened his mouth to talk about another one of his legal cases or a spell he had successfully performed, Crowley was sure to come up with an anecdote of his own or point out how utterly useless it was to transport a TV remote into your hands when you could just get up for it.

It was kind of funny, really, but that didn’t mean Dean was enjoying his brother and his – whatever Crowley was supposed to be – sniping at each other.

Alright, maybe a little. The point stood.

Luckily, Bobby begun talking loudly about the Council’s newest measures to combat crossroads deals (oh the irony) and for now, Sam’s and Crowley’s argument puttered out.

“Dean” his brother soon drew him aside after they had finished eating. “You should be really careful.”

“About Crowley? Don’t worry, I know how to take him.”

Sam grimaced, a reaction that was explained when he answered, “Too much information, Dean. I know I have no right to tell you who you spend your time with, but… really?”

 _Oh_. “What?” he said somewhat lamely. “Crowley’s hot.” At least Sam wasn’t suspecting him of being a demon; let him believe that they were…

Not that this was in any way, shape or form an option. Of course not.

He snapped his fingers and made a bottle of beer appear in his hand.

He only realized what he’d done when Sam stared at him. “You didn’t even say the words!”

“I… thought them very hard” he eventually said. “Crowley has been helping me out a bit.”

Sam apparently didn’t know what to say to that.

* * *

“I used magic in front of Sam today” Dean finally told Crowley after everyone was gone.

“And? Did he have a heart attack?” He actually sounded hopeful.

“No” he replied slightly annoyed. “Oh, he also thinks we’re an item, just so you know.”

“Oh. Well, it’s as good an explanation as any.”

“That’s everything, then” he said, taking a sip from his drink, which he came to regret very much since Crowley shoe to open his mouth again.

“Unless you want to have sex.”

* * *

“I am not going to take that as encouragement” Crowley decided when he was done patting his shoulder (really, that was kind of nice for a demon, wasn’t it?)

“I – I –“ he coughed. “It’s not that –“ he broke off but Crowley was clearly aware what he’d been about to confess, damn perceptive demon, and so he said, “I wouldn’t have anything against it. You just caught me off guard.“

“Good, then. So we can have sex now?”

Dean would have thought that starting a friends with benefits thing with a demon would be more complicated than this, but they soon proved together that it really wasn’t. At all.

* * *

During the next few weeks, not only did Dean’s magic performance continue to improve (good) but he found himself growing fonder and fonder of Crowley (bad, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind). The demon was fun company, if prone to mischief, and he could be a smartass if he wanted to, but all in all, Dean couldn’t recall when time had last seemed to pass so slowly.

Crowley had also had the idea that there might actually be a market for his potions, and so far, with both the help of the internet and him selling to neighbours, it was proving to be true.

While Sam and Crowley continued to loathe each other, he’d grown quite close to Eileen, of all people, who seemed utterly charmed by Dean’s “boyfriend”, as she chose to call him (and sometimes Dean dwelt on why they never corrected her).

And then came the day when Sam called because a colleague of his had asked him to cleanse the house, only he didn’t have the time, and would Dean mind…

He’d never asked him to do something like this before. He must have noticed that Dean was getting better and better.

Crowley sent him on his own, claiming it was some sort of “trial run” and it was with mixed feelings that Dean managed to send the ghost away – all at once, and without any damage to the property.

Seemed like their deal was as good as done.

“Alright” he muttered to himself as he walked back to his place, “So you like him. Big Deal. You’ve liked and lost people before. Just tell him he’s free to go.”

Crowley was already expecting him and did not seem to be surprised when he admitted “I managed it. No problem at all.”

“Thought so” he said, obviously satisfied.

“That means you’re free to go” he answered quietly but firmly.

“It would seem so. I’ll see you around, darling.”

And with that, he was gone.

Fine. Dean’s hands balled into fists. Why should he care if Crowley didn’t?

A knock on his door.

He opened it to look into red eyes he’d been convinced he’d never behold again. “Hello. I am a demon without a home, and I’m wondering if you may accord me hospitality –“

Dean laughed then and drew him into a kiss right there on his doorstep.

**A year later**

With all that had been going on – opening the potions shop, becoming more involved with the Council, him and Crowley finding a new house – it was probably understandable that it had slipped Dean’s mind that even the best potion had an expiration date if not reapplied.

And so, he was just discussing a few transfiguration spells with Sammy when his brother fell silent. Dean attributed this to Crowley coming in – they still didn’t like each other much, and he’d heard him step into their living room – and only knew how right he’d been when he saw Sam stare over his shoulder.

He turned around.

Crowley had his red eyes out, and considering Sam’s impression of a goldfish…

“Yeah, Sammy, should probably have mentioned that my boyfriend’s a demon. My bad.”

“Oh also” Crowley cheerfully supplied, “As of last night, we’re engaged.”

It was going to be an interesting day.


End file.
